


Lessons in Recklessness

by QuickYoke



Series: Coffee and Tea [2]
Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, SO MUCH FLUFF, also Peggy is a massive nerd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-01-18
Packaged: 2018-03-08 01:58:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3191231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuickYoke/pseuds/QuickYoke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peggy and Angie finally have a talk. A sequel to "The Process of Ripening."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lessons in Recklessness

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't read "The Process of Ripening" I highly recommend you do so before reading this, else some of it won't make sense.

“I miss the war.”

They were sitting at the table in Peggy's cramped kitchen. Cooking necessities crammed every shelf, pots and pans battling for space with the flour and the baking soda. The apartment as a whole was spotless – its inhabitant stuck to cleanliness like gum to a shoe – and yet it felt full. Not with personal affects (Peggy had very few personal items as far as Angie could tell, and she'd blinked down at the two small suitcases Peggy had brought when she moved in) but rather with furniture. No space escaped unused, so that the room seemed crowded. The night air swept in from the open window, cool and refreshing. Two days had passed since the incident, but if Peggy still had those injuries under her silk robe she didn't show it in any shape or form.

Peggy took a swig of schnapps then continued, “I know that's a horrible thing to say. War is terrible and all that nonsense. But at least at war I felt alive, useful.” She rubbed at her temple and sighed, “I suppose that's why I go looking for -”

“Trouble?” Angie broke in, “People to beat the shit out of and vice versa? Jesus, Peggy, is that what the other night was about?”

With a grimace Peggy dropped her gaze to the now empty glass she rolled between her fingers, “Essentially, yes.”

“And here I thought I had anger issues,” Angie muttered, knocking back her own drink, then pouring them both another.

“I can't say I'd recommend it as a stress reliever,” Peggy added dryly. 

Angie levelled a look and pointed an accusatory finger, “Next time you feel like doing something reckless you tell me first.”

Peggy shook her head ruefully, but said, “I promise.”

“Drink to it,” Angie insisted.

Their glasses clinked together, and they threw back a mouthful of schnapps.

“I don't suppose,” Peggy began slowly as Angie stoppered the bottle for the night, “you wanted to discuss anything else?” She gave Angie a pointed look.

Eyes widening, Angie replied too quickly, “No! I-uh-” she cast about desperately for another topic, coming up empty, “I'm good, you know? I think we covered good ground tonight, and I should probably head out.”

She flew to her feet and Peggy followed suit, “Of course. I'll see you out.” Her expression had not changed, though something in Angie wished it had.

“Don't worry, English. I can find the exit.” On her way over, however, she paused. A blanket had slipped from what appeared to be an unused fish tank atop the bookshelf, revealing a carefully detailed diorama complete with tiny hand-painted soldiers fighting over sand dunes. She couldn't have asked for a better change in topic. She turned with a sudden grin, “You collect  _dolls_ ?”

Peggy's eyes narrowed, “They're figurines,” she corrected through clenched teeth, “And I'll have you know that's a section of the Second Battle of El Alamein.”

“Peggy Carter: Woman of Mystery and Suspect Taste in Hobbies,” Angie teased even as she retreated to the door.

“Angie Martinelli,” Peggy shot back, “Woman Who Overstays Her Welcome.”

Angie clutched her chest, “I'm hit!” she faux staggered out into the hallway, “Don't let those damn Jerries get my body!”

With a growl Peggy shut the door,  and Angie all but skipped gleefully back to her own room. She didn't see Peggy until the next evening – somehow Peggy managed to skip breakfast without a trace, and even Mrs. Fry could be seen scowling around the scagliola columns in puzzlement. This time when she visited, though, Angie knocked and waited outside until she heard Peggy's voice call out an invitation from within. 

“I got a new addition for your collection,” Angie announced once she shut the door behind her.

Peggy's brow rose sceptically, and she crossed her arms as one of Angie's hands reached slowly into her purse.

“Ta-da!” Angie sang, and she whipped out a plastic toy of Captain America.

At first Peggy froze, and Angie pushed the toy into her hands. She stared down at the cartoonish expression behind the familiar A-painted mask with something akin to blank wordless horror. Then she started laughing, and she found she couldn't stop. She laughed until she had to sit on the edge of her nearby bed, and clutch her stomach. She laughed until she was holding her head in her hands and crying, the cool plastic toy squeezed tight between trembling fingers.

Dimly she felt Angie sit beside her, the mattress creaking beneath their combined weight. A touch alighted warm on her shoulder, stroking down her back. Sniffling, Peggy wiped her cheeks then offered Angie a watery smile, “He's perfect. Thank you.”

Still Angie looked guilty and unsure of herself, “Hell, I'm sorry. I thought -”

“Don't,” Peggy shook her head, setting the toy on her bedside table with a fond look, “Don't apologise. This is -” she cleared her throat, paused, wiped at her eyes again, “-This is the most thoughtful gift I've received in a long time.”

She looked so warm, and open, and fresh, and  _there_ , and before she could stop herself Angie swooped down and kissed  her on the cheek. When Peggy's look turned startled, she  waved her hands and  stammered lamely, “It's an Italian thing.”

A huff of laughter and a shake of those tumbling dark auburn curls, “You're very kind, you know.”

“Kindness has nothing to do with it, English,” Angie replied,  her  mouth dry.

Silence fell between them, heavy laden, for a long moment. During that time Peggy's eyes traveled downward, fixing  o n Angie's mouth  before she wrenched them back up again. Finally she admitted in a low whisper, “I'm afraid I'm considering doing something reckless again.”

Angie swallowed.  Calloused, long-fingered hands grasped her face gently on either side, and Angie found herself  leaning forward.  Her mouth part ed beneath Peggy's,  and her hands took on a life of their own, running across Peggy's shoulders and down her back, fastening at her solid waist, tracing every curve, every muscle. Vaguely she felt Peggy's hands bury into her hair, until loose strands tickled the back of her neck. 

When they parted, she murmured against Peggy's lips,  “ I think I'm starting to like your reckless side.”

At that Peggy chuckled and leaned in for another kiss. 

 

 


End file.
